


How The Bandashree Earned His Markings

by TheFightingBull



Series: Of Course He Is, Because Why Wouldn't He Be? [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, I Change Things To Fit My Stories As Needed, Kree, Kree Mythology, M/M, Made Up Animal Species, Not Dead Anymore, War Paint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 22:01:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11609826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFightingBull/pseuds/TheFightingBull
Summary: When Peter is caught snooping through Ronan's things, he begs to know what the Kree's markings mean. A reluctant Ronan decides to tell him...This is sneak peak of a larger story that I am writing and takes place midway into the story. So it will imply things that haven't yet been explained but will hint and hopefully make you all curious enough to read the rest of the story when I start posting it.





	How The Bandashree Earned His Markings

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you all think and thanks for the encouragement and support from [Staubengel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Staubengel/pseuds/Staubengel)

Peter stuck his fingers in the thick, black ‘paint’. To be honest it’s thickness reminded him more of mud than paint. The thick substance was cool to the touch and difficult to remove unless completely submerged in water, or so Gamora had told him. He knew that the ingredients would likely make his stomach turn if what Drax had said of the Kree’s ceremonial paints had been true, and yet he couldn’t deny how much he preferred seeing it on Ronan. Too bad he hadn’t thought to make that permanent…

Even with Ronan being a giant amongst the Kree, he still looked downright vulnerable without the black surrounding his eyes or coming down his throat from the bottom of his chin. He wanted to know what it was for, what meaning it had, but he had a feeling that would be crossing the line of their little truce.  Sure, Peter wanted things to be different, he wanted to explore this whole…Soul-mate thing, but Ronan was still getting used to the newish body and had demanded (cause it certainly wasn’t a request) that they wait for that discussion until later.

He still couldn’t believe he’d been tricked into creating it for him (thought he was more amazed he’d been able to, truth be told). The humungous jerk had spent hours upon hours manipulating his dreams and shoving all those thoughts into his head, all those images of his muscular, tall and incredibly blue... “What are you doing?” Peter glanced up as Ronan’s booming voice filled the room.  

“Just curious as to what the Hell your makeup is made of.” Peter shrugged. He didn’t fear Ronan. There was no need at the moment. He might threaten bodily harm, but Ronan had already made it clear over the past month or so that he didn’t intend to harm him until he had determined which role Peter would play in his life. Servant, Friend, Family, Lover, or Nemesis. The last of which he had sworn to giving a two day warning and head-start if chosen.

“You do not wish to know.” Ronan stated and Peter couldn’t tell if it was a warning or simply a statement of fact.

“I thought that, too but honestly, now I can’t stop trying to guess.” Peter admitted as he pressed his thumb and forefinger together so that he could judge the consistency again. “It has a strange, though not unpleasant smell.”

Ronan smirked as he came forward, taking the container out Peter’s reach and replacing the lid. Peter hadn’t really meant to find the paint, but after Gamora told him a little about the item that Ronan had paid a ridiculous sum of units to have brought to him, he just had to see it. Had to know what made this muck so much different than any other.  

“A year ago I would likely have convinced you it was made from the blood, bones and ash of my enemies.” The Kree admitted somewhat impatiently.

“Blood would clot and congeal though, right?” Peter asked, ignoring the man’s mood.

“In large amounts, yes.” Ronan stared at him for a moment and then as if preparing for some great task took a deep breath. “It’s made with the clay of Hala, the ashes of a _Bandashree,_ the pulverized petals of a black Nessifer flower, the flesh and milk of a Dala-Nar nut, and a small amount of my own blood.”

“What’s the significance? I mean, why not use just black grease paint or something?” Peter asked and found he was genuinely curious about what it meant to his soul-mate.

 “The clay reminds us of our duty and bond to our home, Hala. The petals give the paint it’s color and stand for the love of our race and serves to remind us of our commitment to the Kree. The blood is added as our own personal oath to our ways and a daily promise to continue working toward our goals. The flesh and milk of the nut is for sentimental reasons which are none of your concern. The _bandashree_ ashes are specific to my war paint because that is where my markings come from. If I had chosen a different animal’s pattern, I would use their ashes.”

“So wait, what’s a banda…whatever?”

Ronan sighed irritably but pulled out his data pad and handed it over after a few minutes of searching. When Peter took it from him he had to admit he was impressed by the creature. It was feline looking in shape but it had pearlescent white scales all over it’s body and a black pattern over its face just like Ronan’s. The chin marking went down the underside of it’s body in a straight line, though the Kree ended his at his navel. Between the ears of the reptilian animal a black line also ran down it’s spine and tail and Peter knew he’d seen the same of Ronan with his ending at the cleft of his buttocks.

“It’s a lot like a tiger but it’s all scaly and doesn’t have as many stripes.” Peter commented.

“The bandashree is one of the most dangerous animals on our planet. They have highly venomous claws that will easily paralyze even the mightiest Kree, leaving the individual incapable of moving while they are eaten alive.”

“Holy shit!” Peter cursed in surprise. “I guess I can see why you’d want their markings…That’s a scary ass cat.”

 “It’s not so much the animal itself as it is the legend of how their markings came to be that influenced me to choose them for my own.” Ronan stated as if he’d been insulted by Peter’s idea that he chose the animal based on its lethality alone.

“Okay, so tell me about the legend.” Peter shrugged.

Ronan stared him down and for a moment, Peter wondered if he’d decided to kill him and claim him as a nemesis. Then again, he’d already made it clear that he wasn’t worthy of such a title despite Peter and his friends killing him. Ronan was still sticking to the luck defense; insisting that Peter and the others would not have been able to defeat him if they had relied on their skills alone. If Peter was completely honest, he agreed whole-heartedly. He just wasn’t about to tell Ronan that.

“Why do you wish to know?” Ronan countered with his own question.

“Curiosity, I already told you that.”

 “It has nothing to do with your connection to me?” Ronan openly doubted.

“Well that’s likely a part of it, but only a small one. I’m a naturally curious kind of guy. I can’t really help it.” Peter answered. “So, I guess I can look up the legend on my own if you don’t want to tell me, or maybe Gamora knows of it?”

Ronan snatched the data pad out of his hands quickly and growled low. “You will not learn of the Kree or their legends through some supposed expert or any other that comes from another planet or race!”

“Well how else am I supposed to figure it out, Ronan?” Peter argued back.

“Shut your mouth and sit down.” Ronan snarled the order and Peter almost fought him on it. Almost. Instead he sat down on the Kree’s bunk and stared up expectantly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “The blood of most creatures on Hala is so dark red, most believe it to be black. The color is often staining and nearly impossible to remove once it has soaked in. That first, must be understood.”

 Peter didn’t answer or react until he realized those angry purple eyes were focused intently and more importantly, they were waiting. Only when he finally nodded his understanding did they soften just a touch. He stood before Peter, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of talking about something that could leave the Kree exposed or vulnerable. Peter could see it in the way that Ronan stood frozen and uncertain, even if he did it angrily. Hell, everything Ronan did was done angrily.

“Secondly you must understand the animal itself. The bandashree were the elite predators that they still are. They do not hunt in packs or prides but they do socialize when they are not hunting. They are quite communal in raising their young but the parents will always be nearby. Bandashree also mate for life, so it is rare to see them apart when not hunting.

“Their young are born with only white scales and white whiskers, the black scales do not come in until they are about old enough to hunt. They are also born without their venom glands fully developed. Their mother and father hunt for them as they are incapable of feeding themselves without their help. It is the only time when bandashree hunt near one another, otherwise mated pairs hunt far from each other and then meet up once they are sated.”

Peter raised his hand, afraid that interrupting him might get him hit or something equally violent. “Do uh, do they not nurse? Like at all?”

“No. They do not nurse. They are not mammalian, despite the resemblance to mammalian felines.” Ronan answered with only a slight hint of annoyance at his being interrupted. “They are meat eaters from the start with sharp teeth and claws. They start mimicking their mother and father from an early age and are capable of hunting by the end of their second year of life.”

Peter nodded and listened to what was being told to him in earnest. He knew it shouldn’t actually matter and he doubted it would get him on Ronan’s good side, but he was curious. Not to mention the fact that he really didn’t care if he was on his good side or not. He was just as confused about what being Ronan’s soulmate meant as much as the Kree.

Tanaleer had made it clear that most Humans or Terrans ignored their soul-mates. He said that while Humans usually had a romantic attachment to their soul-mates, it just wasn’t something most of the species believed in and so they often ignored the tell-tale signs that one was near. Peter had wanted to insist that Ronan had no real effect on him and that he could ignore the alien, but he was finding that he was drawn in and constantly wondering about Ronan. Even before he built him his body.

That too, was apparently normal since Peter wasn’t 100% Terran. He was whatever Ego had been and apparently, celestials, elders, and titans also had soul-mates. Ronan insisted it was all bull shit, well he didn’t quite used that vernacular, but he’d said that all beings felt the proximity of their soul-mates and were very interested in them; Terrans were just easily confused and distracted by their pathetic ignorance of the universe around them.

“You are no longer listening.” Ronan glared, interrupting his thoughts.

“What?” Peter blushed, having been caught.

“You stopped listening to me so I stopped speaking.” Ronan sneered. “You said you were interested, but you are clearly not or something else far more important has distracted you. What is it?”

“What’s what?” Peter frowned trying to figure out how to get out of this without insulting him further. He really didn’t want to Ronan to decide to just…kill him? Lock him up? Enslave him?

“What is it that has you so distracted from your own supposed insatiable curiosity about my markings? Or do they no longer interest you?”

Peter paled as he realized how badly he had wounded the Kree’s pride as he noted the slight pout when he said that last sentence. “You actually.” He blurted. “I mean, you as in our connection. It sometimes just strikes me how odd this pull is toward you and anything about you and then I wonder if you feel the same or if it’s different which leads me to wondering how any other Human could have possibly ignored their soul-mates, which got me thinking about how differently you and Tanaleer view things and who I am more inclined to agree with.”

 “And who are you more inclined to agree with?” Ronan asked.

“Well you, obviously.” He said a little too quickly if Ronan’s pleased look told him anything. “I just mean, you were insulting about it but I think I get it. With Tanaleer his opinion implies that Humans actually are inferior and incapable of the same connections as other alien species; whereas your side of things, while presented rather rudely, is actually far less insulting.

 “Humans feel it no differently, meaning we’re effected equally. We just are easily distracted because of our environments and a lack of belief.” He hoped that sounded right.

 “Are you no longer interested in the tale of the bandashree?” Ronan asked, giving no hint as to how he felt about Peter’s explanation.

“I very much want to hear about the bandashree, that hasn’t changed. Please, tell me about it.” He nodded, hoping being polite would sooth the Kree’s wounded pride. He made a mental note when the blue alien inclined his head to never let his attention wander while Ronan spoke, ever again.

 

  _When our race was young, nearly new born, there was a great beast that hunted us; we called it then, and even now, the Great Vispras. Think of your planet’s hooded vipers but with blue or purple scales that have sharp, pointy quills along the edges that can be launched at flying predators. The largest Great Vispra ever seen was nearly twenty feet long and thick enough to swallow a fully grown Kree male._

_The Great Vispra hunted in nearly all climates and habitats during those days. The Kree could not escape them and their children were often made meals by the nasty serpents. So, the Kree prayed to the Gods or any Gods that would hear them. They were finally answered by the Undine Raptor, a giant water bird the size of this ship. She asked what she could do to help the Kree._

_“We need some way to kill The Great Vispras!” Cried the village chief._

_“What would you give to make this so?”_

_“Anything!”_

_“Would you sacrifice your own first born?” The Raptor asked._

_The village elder faltered and then after a moment’s hesitation, seemed to refuse. “Yes of course, but won’t you take me instead? I have lived twice as long as he has, he deserves to live just as long, if not longer.”_

_“You are a giving man who would sacrifice himself to the unknown for the sake of your people and your family. This is the way of the Kree. This is the way of your people. They should be honored by your very existence; however I want your boy. Does he show the same dedication to his people?”_

_The young man in question stepped forward. He was short for a Kree and leaner than most. “No one,” said he. “could ever love our people with more devotion than my father, but I will try and I will give myself over to you.”_

_Impressed the Raptor leapt forward with its talons out, taking hold of the boy and flying far away from the small clan before anyone could object. After flying for many miles, the raptor dropped the young Kree into a nest where one egg lay. It was just as large as the now trembling Kree, for though he was not strong or powerful, he was very smart and guessed at his fate._

_"Your people will be stronger for this sacrifice.” She assured the Kree._

_“How will feeding your young be good for my people? Do you plan to make them eat The Great Vispras?”_

_“No. They are poisonous to my kind. But this egg is not my own. This is a new creature in need of a soul, in need of a spirit. Will you give yourself to it? Will you help balance Hala by giving yourself to whatever hatches from this egg?”_

_“I am afraid.”_

_“There is no shame in fear so long as you are willing to stand despite it. Will you stand or will you run?” The Raptor asked._

_“I have a choice?”_

_“All creatures have a choice, Little Kree. Make yours quickly, for this is your last chance to run if you wish to. Just know this, should you stay, you will never be able to return to your family or your people anywhere.”_

_At that moment the egg began to move and a strange growling was heard. The Kree was tempted to run, tempted to get away, but he thought of his father and his father’s love for his clan and his willingness to sacrifice himself for the love of their people and his son. He found his own strength by reflecting on his father’s bravery. He took a deep breath and stood tall before the hatching egg._

_A large, fully grown bandrashree made its way out of the egg. It was pure white with thick, scales that would prove to be impenetrable by any weapon of that time. It had several flexible spines that acted as whiskers all about its muzzle. Its eyes were pale blue with black reptilian slit pupils. It’s teeth and claws were black, much like a Kree._

_“This creature is to be my death?” The adolescent whispered._

_“It is to be your re-birth, a painful, agonizing birth, but you will be made anew.” The raptor corrected._

_The Kree nodded his head and stood defiantly before the creature, to which the feline hissed and crouched low, its black claws glistening. The Kree charged, refusing to just lay down and die without even the slightest struggle. The Kree wanted this bandashree to be just as worthy of his sacrifice and there was no better way to prove oneself worthy than to defeat a combatant._

_Of course, the bandashree’s claws eventually caught the young man’s flesh and it didn’t take long before the venom paralyzed the Kree. He feared being eaten alive, feared what it would feel like and how much pain he would be forced to endure before death finally took him. He couldn’t do anything but wait, and so his life ended in the most brutal of ways. Even the The Great Vispras had the decency to kill their prey before ingesting them._

_When the pain faded, the Bandashree roared, the sound melancholy and mournful. It gave the raptor a fleeting glance, recognizing at once that it wasn’t a viable option for food, and then took off to hunt for more sustenance. It didn’t take long before the bandashree found a nest of Vispra and instead of feeling hunger as it had moments before, it felt only anger. It attacked the serpents with a hatred that it wasn’t fully capable of understanding._

_During the skirmish, one of the Great Vispras struck the top of its head with a fang that just managed to break through the scales, just between its ears. Black blood began to drip down the bandashree’s back whenever it would rise upon its hind legs to bat at the large imposing serpents. The blood dripped down it’s scales, staining them permanently. It was a nearly perfect straight line down it’s back and tail. That was the first mark._

_When the battled ended, hunger returned and the scaly feline began to eat one of the serpents. Once again, blood dripped down it’s chin as he ate and then later, it dripped down it’s neck and belly while it climbed a tree to find safety. The black blood seeped into the scales and remained. That was the second mark._

_The third came many weeks later when after hunting for days, the bandashree happened upon a Kree village. An intense loneliness filled the creature and yet he recalled some warning in the back of his mind, some fear that prevented him from coming to close to the Kree. So he stalked about the village, hunting and eating and wishing for some kind of interaction._

_Meanwhile, the Kree were frightened as stories had already spread from the other animals to the Kree of the new hunter. The people kept their distance but one warrior felt avoidance simply wasn’t enough. He feared that the creature would take their children and saw the beast as just as great a danger as the Great Vispras. He had heard of how difficult it had been for the teeth and claws of the other animals to pierce it’s hide and began to watch the predator from a distance._

_The warrior came to know that he could not best the beast with strength alone. Not with it’s claws being so poisonous and the beast being so agile. It’s eyes were the most vulnerable spot but with all the white surrounding his pale eyes, the warrior knew it would be a difficult target. Coming up with a plan, he went to his people and told them of his plan to keep them safe from the bandashree._

_The bandashree was approached by the warrior a few days later and invited to a great feast in his honor for killing so many of the Great Vispras. The bandashree was torn as he stared at the warrior Kree, he felt an urge to strike out and feed upon the blue skinned being as well as pull to join him and his people for the feast. His ever-present loneliness won out and he agreed to the invitation._

_When the bandashree arrived at the table he sat in the chair as if he were another Kree and looked the warrior over, feeling as if it somehow knew the customs. He waited patiently for everyone to be served and when he was finally made an offering of raw meat he waited until the chief finished his memorial prayer and offering of thanks. Then the bandashree ate._

_The warrior had hoped he could just strike out at the beast, but it’s pale blue reptilian eyes constantly watched, constantly followed any who carried weapons on him. This however, was what the warrior had prepared them all for, so he wasn’t overly disappointed. He finished his meal and then went to a bowl of Great Vispra blood that had been set aside for the purpose he had in mind._

_“Allow me, Noble Bandashree, to offer you a gift worthy of the greatest predator on Hala!” The warrior proclaimed as he came forward with the bowl. “We wish to mark you as we mark ourselves, to make you an honorary Kree.”_

_Despite an instinct that warned against allowing the Kree to come so close, the bandashree felt a small tremor of excitement and hope. He wanted to be part of these people, wanted to be a member of their clan and so he nodded his consent. As the warrior knelt beside him, the bandashree placed a paw on his naked thigh, a warning and an assurance that eased his natural instincts._

_The warrior was mostly silent as he applied the blood around the feline’s closed eyes, marking them heavily until it covered the feline’s brow and surrounded both eyes. When this was completed, the pale gaze of the predator was far more noticeable and therefore a much easier defined target._

_“We offer you a mask,” The warrior stated as he set down the bowl and moved to step away from the creature and get its massive paw off him.. “a mask that will make your pale eyes easier to see. This way, we might know you and your kind and know where to strike you!”_

_The bandashree had just moved in time to escape another Kree’s blade that had aimed for his eyes, but he was struck with barrage of arrows. Luckily his scales kept him well protected as he maneuvered around the Kree warriors. He felt several arrows and other projectiles striking his head, no doubt trying to strike him in the one place he could be harmed._

_He lashed out but was careful not to extend his claws as he was surrounded by the warriors. He believed that there must have been some misunderstanding and did not want to harm them, even as the beast inside roared for retribution. He called out to the Kree, he asked them why they wanted to hunt him when he worked to take away the threat of their greatest enemy._

_“You are no better than the Great Vispras, you are just as dangerous if not more so! I will not suffer another beast! Not after all I’ve lost!” The Kree shouted as he continued his attack. “We want you as dead as the serpents you destroyed.”_

_Angered and hurt over being tricked by the Kree, the bandashree decided he would not show this particular clan any mercy. He extended his claws and took down warrior after warrior, ripping into their flesh and killing any who approached._

_“We’ve marked you, Bandashree, we’ve marked you.” One warrior reminded him. “One day a hunter or a warrior will strike you dead and then we will finally be safe.”_

_As the bandashree ran from the village of dying Kree, he found the Undine Raptor perched in a tree. He climbed it, resting on the large branch beside it. “What has happened to your face, Bandashree?” It asked. “You were not marked so upon your birth.”_

_“The Kree have marked me so that I am easier to kill. They have highlighted my only physical vulnerability by exploiting my true weakness.”_

_“What might that be?” The Raptor asked._

_“I am lonely. I long for my people but I have none, so I tried to become one of them.”_

_“But they are not your people anymore. You are no longer the Little Kree you once were.” The Raptor explained._

_“I was once one of them?” The Bandashree asked in surprise._

_“Yes of course, you gave your soul and lifeforce to become the bandashree. You hunt The Kree’s greatest enemy, The Great Vispras.” The bird explained. “Did you not remember my telling you that you could never return to the Kree once you made your sacrifice? It was not to be cruel, but to protect you from them.”_

_The face of the warrior who had marked him flashed before his eyes and at once he knew him. The warrior had not recognized his son and had in fact tried to kill him. He couldn’t see the outcome of the sacrifice his son had made. The clan he’d been born into did not understand the sacrifice he made, the changes he’d accepted and made in order to protect his people._

_Worse still, he hadn’t been able to remember them, either and he’d killed them. So many of his own family and people dead at his claws. His father, especially. The horror of what he’d done struck the creature and the animal roared his despair as tears streamed down his face, running from his eyes and down to his chin. He cried long and hard, unaware that as he did so, the blood from his mask and tears lefts staining trails from his eyes to his already blackened chin._

_“I warned you, Bandashree, I warned you not to return to the Kree. When one sacrifices their life to protect their own kind, they do not get to return. They do not get to rejoin their people, they are changed, they are born anew. To return is to invite disaster.” The Raptor lectured._

_With another angry roar, the bandashree swiped at the bird, but it simply launched itself into the air and flew about him. “Had you told me what I was, I never would have returned!”_

_The bird landed out of reach of the bandashree on a branch high above. “I did not know you could not remember. For this I apologize and I will make it up to you.”_

 

“And that is how the bandashree earned their final marks.” Ronan finished.

“Wait, that’s all you’re going to tell me?” He asked and when Ronan nodded his head, Peter glared. “Bull shit, what did the bird do to make it up to him?”

“That’s a completely different legend.” Ronan answered and stood.

“Yeah but, not really!” Peter argued. “It has to do with his loneliness and you mentioned it more than once. I want to know how it ends!”

Ronan turned and smirked, his lavender eyes flashing. “No.” He answered simply.

 “Fuck that!” Peter shouted. “I want to know!”

“You have no need to know.” Ronan replied and at once, Peter’s jaw dropped as he realized the Kree was teasing him! He was actually playing with Peter. A small smirk formed at the corners of his blue lips as he eye Peter in challenge. “It is not your culture and you wish to ignore our connection. You told Gamora and Drax this just before you started snooping about my quarters.”

“Yeah well,” He couldn’t deny he’d said that, but he certainly hadn’t been aware that Ronan overheard it. “maybe I changed my mind.” He answered honestly. “Maybe I couldn’t ignore you if I tried. Maybe I want to find out what this connection means to me as much as you want to find out what it means to you.”

Ronan watched him in calculating manner, his head tilted slightly to the side and his bottom lip protruding just enough to be considered an odd sort of pout. “Very well. I will tell you about me under two conditions.”

“Ok?”

“You will never go to anyone but me for your educational needs or curiosities on the Kree, Hala, or our culture.”

 “Well, if people offer the advice, I’m not going to ignore them. That’d be rude.” Peter countered.

 “As if you have ever concerned yourself with such niceties.” Ronan sneered. “I am aware that you cannot control what other people tell you, but you can control who you go to for information on certain subjects.”

Peter couldn’t help but snicker as he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll go to you and only you for all things Kree. What’s the second condition?”

“You and Gamora will stop touching each other.” Ronan growled, and Peter couldn’t deny the shiver he felt at the possessive and jealous tone.

“You’re just mad you can’t stop her yourself like back when you were bodiless.” Peter teased but Ronan didn’t look amused. “Ok, ok, ok. No touching. Drax doesn’t really like it any more than you do to be honest. But I have my own condition.”

Ronan rolled his eyes. “You are the one who wants what I have to offer. Why should you be allowed to set conditions?”

“OK well, maybe it’s not a condition, but more like a request.” Peter grinned when he noted that he had Ronan’s attention once more. The Kree could pretend like he was the one who needed to be convinced all he wanted, but Peter had noted more than once that Ronan was eager to display his own worthiness. “I want to teach you about my culture, more specifically my music.”

That eagerness clearly morphed into barely restrained disgust as his upper lip began to curl. Peter saw it all over his face. He’d rather die than have to learn about anything Terran. “Come on, it’s important to me. Please?”

He was so sure Ronan was going to deny him and walk out of the room, that he continued begging even after the Kree nodded reluctantly. Only when Ronan glared did Peter realize his pleading was no longer necessary.

 “This is gonna be great!” Peter smiled, feeling a lot better about Ronan being aboard their ship. “So how did the Undine Raptor make it up to the bandashree?”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for typos, this was written very quickly at work between signing trucks in and out.


End file.
